


Bring Me To Life

by Dusty



Series: Conversations In The Car [6]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Companionable Snark, F/M, Guilt, Hot Sex, Melancholy, Questionable ethics, Resolved Sexual Tension, Survivor Guilt, Terminal Anxiety, Unresolved Sexual Tension, fight for dominance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now at Skyfall, M is disheartened by the sight of the empty gun room, not to mentioned scared for her life. Waiting for Silva to arrive, James tries to help her. Conversation is no longer verbal. You have been warned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me To Life

**Author's Note:**

> Terminal anxiety is usually associated with terminally ill patients who demonstrate sudden restlessness when they know the end is near (a bit like a sprint finish). I got the impression that M felt quite defeated once at Skyfall. She didn't bring attention to her wound either, because she didn't want to slow down Kincade or Bond. I felt she lost her self-preservation early on, probably because she felt people were dying because of her.

She was watching him. He knew it. He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he worked with Kincade. They’d arrived, refreshed themselves, and got busy. He’d set her to work, building her bombs. He was trying desperately not to think about the lack of weaponry. There wasn’t time to lament that now. But hey had been afforded enough of a respite to be in some way prepared.

But since arriving at Skyfall, seeing the sparse gunroom, something had changed in M. She barely said a word, just complied with his orders. Not like her at all. And the threat closed in on them every moment.

He swallowed. There was little else to prepare, and the reality of their situation kept bubbling up to confront him. Kincade did not know what James had done. He had driven the Chief of MI6 hundreds of miles to an obscure location to be used as bait. 

James flinched. Kincade looked at him questioningly.

“You all right, son?” he asked kindly.

“I just remembered something,” stammered James. “Be right back.” He scampered out of the room. True enough, M was in the corridor outside, regarding him coolly.

“Upstairs,” was all he said. She followed.

“Are you ready?” he asked, as they walked into a dusty bedroom. He closed the door behind them.

“As ready as I can be,” was her clipped reply. She was clearly frightened and trying to hide it.

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he said, as matter of fact as he could.

“Don’t we all, OO7,” said M with resignation. “But this is my doing. I appreciate your help.”

“M…” he began, but she cut him off.

“I think that’s all, don’t you?”

He scowled at her. “This isn’t your fault. You were doing your job – your duty. We’ll get him and stop him for good. Then we can all go home. OK?”

“If you say so OO7.”

“Oh stop being so…”

“So what?” She was angry now. But he didn’t care.

James stalked up to her. “It’s like you’ve decided you deserve this. That somehow this crazy bastard has a right to do anything he likes to you. Whatever guilt complex bullshit you have it needs to stop now. I can’t keep you safe if you’re determined to suffer.”

She stood trembling silently, fuming at him for all she was worth.

James continued, “Whatever was done, whether or not you should have done it, whether or not you confused business with pleasure or betrayed a friend, it doesn’t excuse Silva’s actions. It doesn’t excuse murder. This is not your atonement. Do you understand?”

Her expression didn’t change. She was still trembling. “You’ve made yourself clear. It doesn’t change anything. Don’t you have work to do?”

That was enough. He caught her by the arm and led her to the bed, tugging off the dust sheet and sitting them both down. She put up no resistance, something that James found more alarming than anything.

“Ma’am,” said James, speaking in a strained whisper. “I am the commander in charge of this mission and I order you to fight for your life, as you would fight for mine. The odds are against us, in case you haven’t noticed. There’s no room for doubt. I need you at your most frightening. And at present, you are behaving like Miss Marple.”

Her eyes glinted. She raised her hand to slap his face but he caught her wrist.

“That’s more like it,” he said.

She retracted her arm with a huff, though he kept an unyielding hold on her.  “I have no doubts,” she said firmly. “I am trying to keep focused on not letting anyone else die for me.”

They were breathing fast. He knew what she meant. “Then don’t even entertain that idea. Have you finished your bombs?”

“Yes, Sir,” came the facetious reply.

“Good girl,” challenged James with a wink. “And you have your own weapon. Looks like I won’t have to lock you in the tunnel for your own safety after all.”

“Don’t you bloody dare,” she growled.

She averted her eyes but made no attempt to extricate herself from his grip.

James studied her for a moment.

“M,” he said softly. “Are you all right?”

Two angry eyes focused on him. She tugged her hands away but he snatched them back.

“Of course I am,” she said indignantly. Once more, her hands rested in his. “Surely there is still more to do?"

“Not really,” said James. “Waiting game now.”

Her gaze dropped, but she leaned very slightly into him at the same time. He shifted closer to her.

The conversations from their journey, every single word, seemed to swirl inside his head. Everything they had said and everything they hadn’t said.

He pulled her in tighter. She bowed her head lower, as if she couldn’t bear witness to her own weakness. He was holding her now. Somewhere downstairs he could hear Kincade moving about. But otherwise not a sound. The calm before the storm.

Time ticked away inside him once more. Now or never.

He shifted back, cupping her face and lifting her chin gently to him. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Then he leant in and pressed his lips against hers.

She responded immediately, pulling him closer, her lips parting for a deeper kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, willing him on. She was rewarded with an exploratory tongue, gentle at first, and then firmer. She kissed him back tenderly, her tongue vying for equality, and then positively battling him. He tried not to kiss her back too ardently but she was putting up quite a fight. His hands were everywhere, holding her close to him, his fingers in her hair, a reassuring caress.

The kiss grew stronger as M knelt on bed, giving her the advantage of height for once. She pulled away for a moment, eyed him lustfully, then thrust her tongue almost violently into James’ mouth, kissing him passionately. He groaned loudly as she did so, and gripped her hips. From that angle, it was easy for her to topple him over so he was leaning on his back.

She broke the kiss again and feigned anger.

“Now just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Before he could answer, she straddled him, sitting on his extremely tight crotch.

Not to admit he’d been blindsided, James responded by grinding his hips against her. “Breaking the spell and awaking the princess, ma’am."

M gasped as he did it again. Then she rocked against him. The friction was perfect. “Good thinking,” she rasped, eyebrow raised.

She cupped his groin and he arched off the bed. She rubbed him for a moment, feeling the full length of him through his tight black jeans. He was rutting against her hand almost involuntarily.

“Easy,” she whispered. “Turn on your front.”

He did as she said, trying not to let his head cloud over entirely. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and an eerie quiet where he expected his conscience to be. But he knew her, and he knew himself. They needed this.

She reached around and pressed her hand against his hardness again, planting a kiss on his neck as she did. He pushed into her hand, tentative at first, then over and over, the contact too good to resist. He could feel her organising something on the bed. He was moaning now.

“Shhh,” she warned. “And careful. You’ll make a mess.” She punctuated her warning with a light smack on the bottom, before removing her other hand from underneath him. “Right. On your back.”

He rolled over, face flushed. He blinked as he realised she’d managed to remove her stockings with one hand, and was now just in her top and skirt. _Crafty_ , he thought, as she straddled him again, hiking her skirt up around her thighs.

She smiled at him as she unpopped his fly.  

“I know this isn’t a wise thing to do before a battle,” she murmured.

“Wise no. Life affirming, yes,” he drawled. As he said it, she freed his erection.

She frowned at it. “So much trouble over such a little thing,” she mused.

“Oi!” hissed James, landing a smack on M’s bottom this time. His eyes lit up as he did it, delighting in how forbidden that had been even minutes ago. She shot daggers back at him, but a smile graced her lips. 

“Touch me,” she said, with the smallest shake in her voice.

His hand felt heavy as he obeyed her, fingers stretched, venturing up inside her skirt. His boss’s skirt no less. His heart raced, his cock twitched. He grazed her leg with his fingertips as he followed the heat, and then he was home, underwear clearly discarded at the same time as the stockings.

She gasped loudly as she felt him touch her. She was soft like silk, hot, then slick. This was hardly new to him, but at the same time he felt he’d never been here before. Her face displayed a peace he’d never seen in her. He flicked his thumb over her labia and she had to hold her hand over her mouth to stay quiet. Then he applied more pressure, feeling all of her with his hand. He was wet and hot. She pushed against him. Her eyes had drifted closed but they opened now. She stared at him.

His dreamy eyes met hers, his lips red and swollen. She clasped his cock in her hand, gently jerking him, and he inhaled deeply.

“Shall we?” she asked, voice deep and disarmingly sexy.

James cleared his throat.

“This is madness,” he breathed.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

He sat up and kissed her, then lay back with a glint in his eye. He slipped two fingers inside her without taking his eyes off her, almost knocking her off balance.

“Just checking it’s safe to fly,” he explained with a smirk.

“And?” she asked, arms trembling, clenching around his digits.

“Excellent conditions. Sit,” he commanded. He withdrew his fingers and placed both hands on her hips, lowering her onto him.

She did so gingerly at first, then took some time to get used to him before torturing him with acute clenches.

“Not so little after all?”

“Be quiet,” she answered, starting to move.

They were both still mostly dressed. She ran her hands over his muscly arms. He cupped her breasts through her top, and then with an impish grin slipped a hand inside the fabric, sampling the warmth and softness of her.

She gave him a smouldering look before she closed her eyes, letting the pleasure overtake her.  More and more she was unable to think, more and more it chased everything away. She only knew need and the fact she’d needed this from him for longer than she could ever admit.

His thumb pressed her clit. Her eyes snapped open. He was staring back at her, blue eyes daring blue eyes.

“Quickly,” she whispered. “We don’t have long. Go on. Do it.”

He sat passively for a moment, deliberately defying her, enjoying the power of her almost begging him, feeling her around his cock. But she was right.

“James, I need you to…”

He lifted her slightly and flipped them over before she could finish her sentence, careful not to squash her, as her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. And he was inside her again.

“Yes, come on, good boy,” she mewled.

“Look at me,” he said firmly. Her eyes met his again, and he began to thrust into her none too gently. Her eyes widened. Neither of them could pretend this wasn’t happening. Neither of them could drift away in the throes of passion. It was indisputably them doing this to each other, as they both clawed at each other to claim their release.

The bed creaked lightly as his hips snapped. James was grateful for the closed door, but hoped Kincade wouldn’t come looking for them, or that at least he was providing them with a lookout.

M sighed and muttered under her breath. “Yes! Good boy. Harder. Good boy…”

He buried his face in her neck and listened to her soft cries and sweet orders, not wanting it to be over, feeling they were being pulled over a cliff together. He didn’t think he could have stopped for anything. She suddenly gripped him tight and muffled a shout against his ear. He felt the undulations as she shuddered and stiffened against him. He felt lost, his body now in charge. She relaxed beneath him and he knew he’d better do it now. He felt her nails digging into to his back, pulling him back into her. He kissed her neck and fucked her hard and fast, chasing his orgasm before the moment was lost. He was so close. He felt her hand tenderly stroke his hair and he came powerfully, throwing his face into the sheets to stifle his guttural cries.

She was still stroking his hair when he’d caught his breath. He was lying to the side of her with his head on her breast.  He looked up at her. She seemed lost in thought.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he took a better look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but it looked good on her. She peered slyly at him, her mouth quirked in a half smile.

“I knew I shouldn’t have sat in that seat.”

James smiled cheekily. “You’re no conquest, M. You’re the conquistador.”

She leaned into him and kissed him gently. “Poor thing. I’ve abused you.”

There was a note of seriousness in what she said that jerked James out of his post-coital bliss. “I know,” he said.

M smiled at him. If she could ever respect one thing, it was stark honesty.

“We need to get ready,” she said, and went about righting herself, brushing off the dust of the room.

“I’m always ready,” said James.

“Yes. That rumour is now confirmed OO7.”

“And it’s nice to know I’m not alone.”

She turned around slowly, in a manner that would have made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at any other time.  Instead, he felt his face heat up and tried not to laugh.

“Downstairs,” she ordered with deadly calm.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Good to see her fighting back, he thought, as he returned to Kincade with a little extra something to fight for.


End file.
